


Before This Dance Is Through

by Verai



Series: RDR2 tumblr Requests [18]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai/pseuds/Verai
Summary: You work at a super cute cat cafe run by your boss, Charles Smith. His friend, Arthur Morgan, is a tattoo artist who works across the street and comes by for coffee before he starts work. You’ve maintained a quiet and gentle persona in the hopes of getting him to fall for you, but one day, he catches you dancing your heart out to some dubstep in the downtown plaza early in the morning before most people are awake. What will you say to him when you see him staring at you, a dumbfounded look on his face?





	1. Dance Around the Issue

**Author's Note:**

> My dear @r0xy-w0lf asked me for a fic about a Reader who can dance, and @myboah had a post asking what if Arthur was a tattoo artist in a modern AU. And SO BLAM, this story exploded from my brain, demanding to be written. And finally, I know practically nothing about street dance, so references might be vague to hide my ignorance. I'm sorry!

It was a gorgeous summer morning, and you were cleaning tables at the cat cafe that you worked at. A pair of women were sitting in the corner, with one of them lifting her shirt sleeve to show off a tattoo. You noticed that it was an amazing design, a tiger lily that melted into a butterfly.

“That is  _ so _ beautiful. Did you come up with it?”

“No, I just heard that if you talk to him for a while, he’ll come up with something for you, and it’s always this soul deep, beautiful thing that represents you perfectly.”

“Really? You just… talked?”

“Yeah, he sits you down, gets you some water, and just asks you how your day’s been, how you’re doing, and, I don’t know, I just ended up talking about my hopes and dreams. All the while he’s drawing in some little sketchbook. Twenty minutes later, he shows me this design and asks if it’s good, and I immediately said yes, draw it on me!”

“What, no way. No way anyone is that good.”

“His Instagram account says otherwise.”

You didn’t hear either of them speak for a while as one of them messed with her phone before handing it to the other. Then there were some gasps.

“Holy fuck. Holy FUCK.”

“I know, right? And here’s the kicker: he doesn’t even handle his Instagram account, he says his friend does all that social media stuff for him.”

“Well, whoever it is does a fucking good job at marketing him.”

“Right? Anyway, enough about me. How are you doing?”

The conversation carried on as you moved away from them, taking all the dishes and cups back into the kitchen.

Glancing at Charles, your boss and owner of the cafe, you noticed the smile on his face; it wasn’t a normal smile, more like the smile of someone laughing at an inside joke.

“What's up?” you asked as you walked by.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

***

Later that day, you reminded him.

“So what were you going to tell me?”

Charles scrunched his lips together as he tried to remember. “Oh, the two women talking about that tattoo artist? That’s Arthur.”

“Your friend who just joined the studio across the street?”

“Yup. Javier finally convinced him to leave his old studio after putting some hard numbers in front of him. Arthur’s so loyal, it took Javier writing out how much gas and time he was using to commute, and how little he was getting as an apprentice when he could be charging more as a solo artist.”

You had heard bits and pieces about Arthur from Charles and Javier, who was Charles’ business partner for the cafe, and did marketing for him. Javier was a charismatic man, who had actually suggested Charles hire a helper so he could focus on managing the cat lounge part of the cafe, which is why you were brought on board. So in a way, you were grateful to him, as you loved the laid back atmosphere of this job.

And during the slow times, you could play with the cats. 

***

You first met Arthur at the crack of dawn on a slow morning. 

"Hi, welcome to Crafty Cats!" You greeted the grumpy looking man with one of your gentle smiles; you were naturally quiet and easy-going when in the cafe, and fortunately that matched the general vibe of the lounge. Charles wanted it to be a place where people could relax and maybe consider adopting a cat, which was the other half of the business that he focused on. Your job was to make the cafe a place where people felt welcome, like they were coming back to an old friend. 

You observed the man as he walked up to the counter. He was easy on the eyes, but a bit intimidating, a big guy with big arms. His left bicep had a tattoo that went up his arm under the sleeve of his shirt; you couldn't see the rest of it, but it looked like some kind of animal, maybe a deer. His dark blue muscle shirt showed off his body rather magnificently, and his black jeans wrapped his hips lovingly. Good lord, if you didn't have a big man kink, you sure as hell had one now. 

"G'mornin'. Is Charles around?" 

Oh, his voice was deep, just the way you liked it, with a mix between a Texan and a southern twang to it. You pointed towards the cat lounge. Through the large window in the wall that separated the coffee bar and the cat lounge, you could see Charles in there brushing one of the cats. 

"I'll let you in," you said, walking out from around the counter. The man followed silently as you opened the door carefully and went inside. Immediately Natasha, a calico, started hissing at you. You rolled your eyes and ignored her; this was normal. 

"Hey, someone's here to see you?" You asked quietly. 

Charles looked up and smiled. "Hey Arthur. Have a seat, you can help me brush Natasha."

You winced. She only liked Charles. Whenever anyone else tried to pet her, she'd at best walk away. At worst, she'd hiss and bat at whoever came near. 

So you watched in utter disbelief as Arthur held his hand out and she immediately went up to him and nudged his hand, then plopped into his lap and started purring. 

"What…" 

Charles laughed at your reaction. "Arthur has a way with animals."

Then you heard Arthur croon softly to the cat, and your face heated up; you were suddenly wishing he was saying those things to you in that gravelly voice. 

"Good kitty, yer just a little sweetheart, ain'tcha?" he murmured as he took the brush that Charles wordlessly handed him and gently brushed Natasha. She just purred and blinked her eyes slowly. 

Charles got up and gestured for you to follow him. "I'll get you a coffee," he said over his shoulder to Arthur as he exited the lounge area with you. 

As soon as the door was shut, Charles looked at you knowingly. 

"He's single."

"I didn't ask!" 

Charles just smirked at you. "I could tell you wanted to know." He poured a cup of black coffee and handed it to you. "Bring this to him, please." 

You just shook your head. Your boss, playing matchmaker. Funny guy. But far too observant. 

***

It's been a couple months since then. Almost every morning, Arthur comes in for a coffee and plays with the cats, then goes to his studio. Sometimes he stops by after work to just chill with the cats, and Charles lets him. You wondered about the nepotism of it all, since the cat lounge had an admission price, but you didn’t bring it up. 

Turns out, you didn’t need to.

On a busy morning, Arthur, who was waiting in line for his coffee because he didn’t want to be  _ that guy _ , asked you once he reached the counter, “Don’tchu charge people for hangin’ out in there?”

You nodded as you poured his coffee. “Yeah, $12 an hour.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything else as he accepted the coffee from you.

“But Charles said it’s okay for you,” you quickly added. “He said you’re not allowed to have pets at your place.”

“Charles and his big mouth,” he grumbled, but a soft smile played on his lips as he spoke.

You loved his small smiles, his irreverent humor, his grumpy cheer.

He gave you a twenty. 

"What's this for?" you asked, blinking stupidly. 

"For the time in there," he replied, pointing a thumb at the cat lounge. 

"I said-" 

"Tell Charles he can shove his charity." And he walked into the cat lounge, sat down, and was immediately surrounded by three cats. 

You smiled at the scene; a big man, rough around the edges, speaking gently to some cats. 

And then two women sat next to him and started chatting with him. 

You bristled, but you couldn't do anything about it. After all, who the hell were you, when you hadn't scrounged up the courage to talk to him beyond the usual small talk? 

***

The twilight right before dawn was your favourite time, because no one would be out in the downtown square near the clock tower at this hour. You put your bag down and pulled out your phone and a small Bluetooth speaker. Switching to your dance playlist, a mix of dubstep, hip hop, and house music, you connected your phone to the speaker and hit play. 

As the music flowed through you, you let your body take over, pushing your active mind back as you popped and locked with the beat, undulating your body like it was liquid. 

This was your secret passion: street dance. You could do it with a group in public, but on your own? You'd rather dance where few people could see, but your studio apartment was cramped, and the park had too many dog walkers, even at this hour. So when you could, you came here, with your little speaker, and danced your heart out. You shook out the stress of the day to day, and let yourself just be in the moment, feel the rhythm of the song, the beat of life as it thrummed through you. 

Today, you were dancing out your frustration of being too meek to approach Arthur, too shy to talk more with him. Definitely too scared to ask him out on a date. You couldn't help but be quiet and polite; it was how you were raised. But inside, you were a storm of passion and emotion, always letting out everything in the form of dance. Your dance today was aggressive, fiery, raw. 

Years ago, a friend had suggested you get out your stress through physical exercise, and had dragged you to one of his street dance classes. And you had fallen in love with the feeling of letting the music take over. Now you dance any chance you get, if you could get yourself out of bed early enough. 

Your playlist ended as the sun lit up the plaza, and you went to grab your speaker when you heard a familiar voice behind you. 

"Didn't know you could dance like that," Arthur said as he came up behind you. 

You jumped. "How long have you been watching?" 

"Oh…" He checked his watch. "Since 'bout half an hour ago."

That was the length of your playlist. He had been watching the whole time?

"Sorry, didn't mean to gawk, I just…" Arthur trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and looking nervously away. 

"It's fine," you said quickly to assuage his embarrassment. "I'm dancing in a public square, it's not a big deal." 

He nodded his head, opened his mouth, then closed it again. 

You waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. 

"You, uh, you dance good,” he finally said. Immediately sighing, he spoke again. “I mean, it was fun to watch. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Your face heated up. 

Looking at your wide-eyed reaction and realizing what he said and how it sounded, Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, guess I better get goin’.”

Your heart raced as you watched him start to walk to work. It was now or never. You gathered your courage, while the energy of the dance still beat in your blood. “Hey, would you like to get dinner with me tonight?”

He stopped mid-stride. Turning around, the confused look in his eyes made your heart plummet. 

“Are… you askin’ me out on a date?” His tone was that of disbelief.

“Um, I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, I just...” You trailed off when you saw the confusion melt away, replaced with a genuine smile.

“I’d love to have dinner with you.” Arthur beamed at you, and it felt like you got a direct hit from the sun.


	2. Dance the Night Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First date, first dance... what else could happen?

The two of you worked out a place to meet up that night; his workday ended after yours, so you had a chance to shower and change. He said not to worry about ‘dollin’ yerself up’, as he said, but you wanted to impress.

Oh hell, who were you kidding. You wanted him to take you home tonight.

Wearing a little black dress that had a stripe of red cutting diagonally across your body, you put on some sexy chunky heels and did your hair. Putting on just a little bit of makeup to complete your look, you grabbed your purse and headed out the door, excited to finally have a date with Arthur. 

***

The place you two had agreed to meet was a cute little Spanish restaurant that served really good tapas. Much to your delight, there was also a dance floor, and when you entered, you could see people already dancing. Good, at least it was a group and you could hide yourself a bit. 

"You look stunnin'." 

You turned around and had to restart your heart. Arthur looked delectable; he was wearing a white button up shirt and black pants, with a pinstripe dark blue vest. Simple, yet it looked amazing on him, especially with his sleeves rolled up to show his forearms. The shirt had the first two buttons unbuttoned, showing off just a bit of chest hair. 

All you could do was stare. 

"Cat got yer tongue, sweetheart?" he said with a smirk. Oh, he knew what he was doing to you, and it wasn't fair at all. You quickly recovered from your stupor and sashayed up to him, your hips moving to the music that leaked into the lobby from the dining area.

Now it was his turn to stare, as you hypnotized him with your movements. He reached out for you as you got close, his hand sliding from your shoulders to the small of your back. Leaning in close enough to graze his lips against your earlobe, he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin. 

"You tryin' to drive me crazy?" 

You gave him a sultry smile. "Maybe. Is it working?"

"It is."

Arthur held out his arm to you, and you blinked, confused for a moment. 

"Ain't no one ever been a gentleman to ya?" 

Oh. You slipped your hand onto his arm, feeling his muscles and sighing inwards happily. He got the table and led you into the dining room when his name was called, pulling out your chair for you. Your heart could not stop pounding as you watched him take a seat across from you and gaze straight into your eyes. 

"You been here before? Because I have no idea what to order," he said with a shy grin. 

"Don't worry, I'll steer you right." 

"I trust you."

You had to swallow hard; the way his voice dipped as he spoke those words gave you goosebumps, the low timbre resonating deep in your soul. 

You perused the menu and picked a few things that you thought he would enjoy. Being an adventurous eater, you selected a couple of items for yourself that sounded interesting.

"So when did you start dancin'?" Arthur asked after you had given the order to the waiter. 

Shrugging, you debated how much to tell him. You opted for a summary. If this date turned out well, you could open up to him more. "A few years ago. A friend took me to his street dance class and been hooked ever since."

He nodded, his attention hyper-focused on your every word. He asked you a few more questions, being very polite about it, but it was clear to you he was interested in the full story. 

And much to your surprise, he got you to tell him everything. About your shitty break up, about how dance gave you release, about how you danced because you found it hard to speak up for yourself. Now you understood how he got his customers to speak. He was a very attentive listener, with his ocean colored eyes drawing you in, his thoughtfully crafted questions drawing out your deepest secrets.

He was dangerous. It was no wonder that women swarmed to him like bees to honey. To be under his care as he slowly drew beautiful patterns on your skin, his hands gently using you as his canvas. You understood it fully now, even though you had no interest in getting a tattoo. Not that you could afford one anyway. 

Food came and went, and you had chosen correctly. He loved everything that you ordered, including the zanahorias aliñadas that you thought he wouldn't touch. 

"Everythin' was delicious," he said as he took the last marinated carrot and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly to savor the sourness. 

You nodded as you picked up the last empanada and nibbled on it. You didn't want to think about how much this was going to cost, but you had some money squared away for special food nights like this. You sure as hell weren't going to let him pay for everything; you were a modern woman, dammit! 

"Excuse me, I'm gonna use the restroom," he said as he got up. You just nodded as he left, your eyes on his rear as he walked. It was a bad habit of yours, ever since he had started visiting the cafe. But you never got tired of watching him walk away. 

When he was out of sight, you turned your attention to the dance floor, watching people groove to the upbeat salsa music. You didn't know how to dance that specific style, but most of the people on the floor were just moving to the rhythm freely, so you thought maybe you'd get a chance to as well. Maybe give Arthur a little show and convince him to take you home. 

You don't know how much time passed, as engrossed as you were with people-watching. 

"You wanna dance?" 

You looked up as Arthur sat back down, giving you a knowing look.

"I do. Are you coming with me?" 

Arthur laughed and shook his head. "I got as much coordination as a drunk duck. But I'll gladly watch."

You smiled and started to get up. "Wait, let me give you money for the bill before I forget."

"Don't worry about it."

You stared at him for a few moments, then immediately flagged down the waiter. 

"Could you bring the check, please?"

"This gentleman has already taken care of it," the waiter said, gesturing at Arthur before scurrying away, clearly not wanting to get in the middle of an impending debate. 

You whipped back to look at Arthur, gaping like a fool. 

"I told ya not to worry about it," he mumbled, shrugging nonchalantly. 

A million thoughts ran through your head, about expectations, about how you didn't want to feel obligated to put out, just because he bought you dinner, even though you absolutely wanted to sleep with him, but now there was a layer of complication that he probably didn't even think about. 

He must have seen the anxiety flashing in your eyes. Reaching out for your hand, he held it firmly until he had your full attention. 

"Darlin', I bought you dinner because I wanted to. Ain't expectin’ anythin’. Just wanted to treat a fine lady. That's all."

Blowing out a breath, you felt an immense weight lift off your shoulders. Squeezing his hand back, you smiled and headed for the dance floor. When you got there, you kept your eyes on his as your rocked to the melody, seducing him with each sway of your hips. 

You sensed other people moving around you, and one came closer. You glanced over to see a man dancing very fluidly, almost as if he were trained. His eyes caught yours and he smiled. 

"You move great," he half-yelled over the music. "You trained too?" 

"Just a few classes."

"You have a lot of potential." He moved closer, steadily working his way into your space. You shimmied backwards to maintain your personal bubble. 

He just smiled and kept dancing with you, showing off some more complex footwork. 

So you did too, just to show off. You had a competitive streak in you, sometimes to your detriment. 

The man only got more attracted and moved closer again. You took a step back and ran into someone. 

"Sorry—" 

You turned around to see Arthur, who immediately wrapped an arm protectively around your waist. "Havin' fun, darlin'?" 

"More fun now that you're here," you replied smoothly as you leaned into his body. There was an electric current running through the two of you as you held onto his arms and swayed with the music as he awkwardly shuffled with you. 

"I, uh, ain't so good with dancin'." 

"Not a problem." You took his hands and placed them on your hips. "Just move with me."

As he looked into your eyes and followed your lead, you stepped back and forth to the rhythm, pulling Arthur into your vortex of dance. You completely forgot about that other guy, the whole world melting away until it was just you and Arthur, moving together as one. Orbiting each other, getting closer with each pass until your bodies were melding, your breaths mingling, the tension was being pulled so taut that if he leaned in just a little bit closer, you might snap and kiss him right here, right now.

“I think I should take you home,” he murmured.

“I think you’re right,” you breathed.


	3. Dance Into My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You got your wish: Arthur is taking you home.

He gave you his address and told you where the guest parking was at his apartment complex. When you got there, he was waiting for you, walking you up the stairs and letting you into his small studio apartment. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you didn’t expect the photos of people on the walls, the rustic furniture, the vase of flowers on his table.

Walking up to one of the photos, you recognized Javier and Charles, standing with Arthur in front of some motorbikes. They all looked young, probably somewhere in their late teens. A man with a mustache and slicked back hair stood behind them with his arms crossed, like some kind of gang leader. Like a modern day Fagin and his pickpocketing orphans.

“Wow. Looks like you guys were a biker gang,” you said jokingly, glancing at him over your shoulder.

Arthur just shrugged, but didn’t comment. You made a mental note to ask him more later. Turning to face him, you smiled and stuck out your hip with your arms akimbo. “So, was there a reason you brought me here?” You winked.

“Did I need one?” He moseyed closer to you, his steps deliberate, heavy with purpose. He knew what he wanted, and he was coming to get it. Standing before you, he cupped your face in his warm hands and leaned in, his eyes watching you to see if you would back away.

You closed your eyes and parted your lips in an open invitation. He accepted, starting with a soft touch, gently coaxing a moan from you as the kiss grew like a wildfire, the passion burning between you two growing ever hotter. Hands wandering, you started to unbutton his vest.

“You sure, darlin’?”

“Yes, more than anything.”

Arthur hummed and helped you take off his vest, then his shirt. You let out a sound of utter need as you ran your hands over his shoulders, down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his warm skin. He reached behind you and unzipped your dress, watching raptly as it slid down your body, revealing your sexy black bra and lace panties that you had worn just in case. You were glad you had, because he let out a shaky breath before he bent over to kiss your breasts, kneading them in his hands before he unhooked your bra and slid it off of you so he could lick your nipples, one after the other. 

Then you felt his hands on your waistband, sliding your panties down your hips, letting it fall down your legs, before he gently caressed your sex. You parted your legs for him, and he dipped a finger inside of you.

“Wet for me, sweetheart?”

You could only moan as he stroked you, pleasuring you with his hands as he kissed you. He slowly walked you backwards until you fell onto his bed with a surprised gasp and a shy giggle. Bending over to help you sit up, Arthur caressed your cheek as he stood up straight and slowly started to take off his belt. 

Watching him sexily strip his belt off, you smiled at the fact that you were at eye level with the top of his pants. You looked up at him and licked your lips as you undid his fly and tugged his jeans and his boxers down his hips.

His cock almost slapped you in the face as it bounced free, and you eagerly grabbed it and stroked it lovingly. God, he was so thick. And long. You felt your core pulsing with need as you opened your mouth and took him in, keeping your gaze locked onto his as you did so.

“Fuck,” was all he could utter as you sucked on him, swirling your tongue all around his sensitive skin and making sure that he felt as much pleasure as possible. You felt his hand fisting your hair but not forcing you to take more than you could. However, his hips bucked forward, making you pull back and cough softly. 

“Sorry darlin’,” he said, pulling out of your mouth. “Felt too good. Better we do somethin’ else before I completely lose control.”

He shed all of his clothes and maneuvered you further up the bed before climbing on top of you, rubbing his cock along your wet entrance. Then he backed away and you whimpered. He reached past you, searching his night stand.

“I need a condom.”

You stared at him, wanting him raw, but you didn’t really know his history. “Are… you… um…”

“I’m clean. But I don't want to risk you gettin' pregnant.”

You let out a breath. “It's okay, I'm clean too, and I'm on the pill.” You put a hand on his cheek, felt the stubble and watched him lean into your touch like a cat. "Take me raw."

"You sure?" 

"Yes. Do you not want to?" 

He kissed you as his answer as he started to push himself inside of you, taking you slowly so you could stretch around his thick length. You moaned, feeling so filled when he finally bottomed out.

Arthur buried his face in your neck and inhaled. “You feel so damn good. I never want to leave.” He started to roll his hips, starting slow and steady as he made love to you. Never rushing, almost languid in his movements until you wrapped your arms and legs around him and begged.

“Please, please Arthur, harder, faster! Fuck me, fuck me!”

Arthur immediately ramped up his thrusts, giving you exactly what you needed. He was a strong man, and he pounded you into the mattress, growling in your ear like an animal in heat that you had unleashed with your desire. 

“Yes, yes, use me!” you pleaded.

His hand wrapped around your throat and his other hand grabbed your hair. Feeling the pressure of his hands, the tug on your scalp, you almost came from it, crying out with joy as you kept begging for more.

Arthur sat back on his haunches and flipped you over onto your stomach. “Want it rough, darlin’?”

“Yes, please!”

He impaled you from behind, putting one hand on the small of your back to hold you down as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and fucked you into submission.

“Didn’t know you were like this,” he rumbled. “I like it.” He fell upon you, wrapping a beefy arm around your shoulders as he kept pulling your hair. “My girl, ain’t that right?”

“Oh, yes, Arthur, I’m yours, all yours!”

He moaned and rolled over, taking you with him as he fucked you from below. He was now able to stroke your clit as he pumped in and out of you, driving you to the edge. 

“Want my cum, sweetheart?”

“Yes, fuck yes!”

“Deep inside?”

“Yes, please!”

“Then be a good girl and come for me," he growled into your ear before laying open mouth kisses on your neck. 

You gasped as his strokes became more insistent, your pleasure reaching a peak and unleashing an avalanche within you, pure ecstasy radiating from your core out to the rest of your body. You writhed in his arms, sobbing from the euphoria coursing through your veins. 

Arthur couldn’t even form words as he gripped your hips so tightly that it bordered on pain. He pistoned into you, exploding inside of you with deep moans, his thick cock pumping every last drop into you.

As the two of you took a few moments to catch your breath, you lay on top of him on your back, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re a sex god.”

He chuckled softly. “That makes you a goddess.” He kissed your cheek before turning onto his side, taking you with him as he pulled you into his arms and spooned you.

“G’night, my darlin’.”

***

You woke up with Arthur’s arm still around your waist, your back against his chest. You didn’t want to leave, but you had to relieve yourself. Carefully extracting yourself from his arm, you went to use the bathroom.

Coming back to bed, you saw the sketchbook sitting on his table. Checking to make sure Arthur was asleep, your curiosity got the better of you. Tip-toeing to the table, you carefully flipped through the sketchbook, seeing some of the tattoo designs that you recognized from the finished versions on Instagram. You knew you should’ve stopped flipping through the pages, but each design was ethereal in its sketch form, each pencil stroke like the feather of a bird, having its place amongst the picture as a whole.

Then you flipped past a bunch of blank pages, thinking you had reached the end, until you turned to a page and stopped, your breath caught.

It was undoubtedly a sketch of you. Your hair was in its usual state after a long day at work, and the pose was clearly of you bending down to play with a cat, a pixie smile of your face. You were holding a feather above a cat’s head, as it reached up to bat at you; even with the few lines he used, you could tell it was Gaspar, the Russian blue cat that had been adopted months earlier.

Which meant… this sketch was from around the time when he had first met you. 

You flipped to the next few pages, and it was more of you, in different poses around the coffee shop, usually in motion, looking much more beautiful than you actually felt. The last sketch was of you dancing that morning, your body arcing and your arms flung out to the world, his pencil making sensual lines that almost looked like they were moving on their own.

“Whatchu lookin’ at?”

You whirled around. Arthur was on his elbow in bed, looking at you with an inquisitive gaze. The bedsheet was wrapped around his hip, keeping him decent, but barely. Your eyes roamed the line of his legs, his torso, his arms, up to his face. Feeling guilty, you looked down, but looked up again as you decided to just own your indiscretion.

“Sorry, I was too curious about your sketchbook.”

Arthur just nodded his head and got up, the sheet sliding from his body, revealing everything. Your mouth went dry as he padded towards you in all of his naked glory. Standing in front of you, not touching you though you so desperately wanted him to, he reached around to pick up his sketchbook and looked at which page you had left off.

“So I guess you figured out that I been watchin’ you fer a long time now.”

You nodded.

“That weird you out?”

You shook your head. “Your sketches make me look way more graceful than I am.”

He immediately set down the book and cupped your cheeks in both hands. “Darlin’, I draw what I see. And I see a graceful, beautiful woman that I want to get to know better.” He kissed your forehead. “That alright with you?”

“More than alright.” You smiled warmly at him. 

He returned a warm smile of his own. It felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title lovingly ripped off from a Beatles song…. “Before this dance is through, I think I’ll love you too…” So I left little bits of info, and in my head, there’s a backstory for everything: the vase is just something he picked up at a thrift store, because sometimes a customer will send him flowers as a thanks for the tattoo, which is the only thing he’ll personally post on his own Instagram (because Javi posts everything else), with a thank you note to the customer. By the way, he always has flowers in his apartment.


End file.
